


stage

by letthesongtakeflight



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 50 Ironwidow Kisses, 50 Kinds of Kisses, Alternate Universe - College/University, Ballerina Natasha, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gender Dysphoria, IronWidow - Freeform, Tony Stark is a good boyfriend, Tonynat, Trans Male Character, Trans Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26170765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letthesongtakeflight/pseuds/letthesongtakeflight
Summary: “Don’t you wish you could see Tony tonight?" Clint asked.With reluctant shyness, Natasha admitted, “I wouldn’t say no to that.”Tony leaned his arms at the top of the stage. “Wish granted.".........kiss 48. One person has to bend down in order to kiss their partner, who is standing on their tip-toes to reach their partner
Relationships: Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61
Collections: 50 Ironwidow Kisses





	stage

**Author's Note:**

> I am not trans, so I apologize if my characterization of trans boy Tony is harmful in any way. If it is, please tell me and let me know how to improve. Constructive criticism welcome and appreciated, as always.

Tony loved watching Natasha dance. Carefree, like there was nothing in the world but the music and her body, not even the stage beneath her feet or gravity. Tony was a physicist – he was getting a Masters degree in Physics – but he could believe that when she danced, Natasha was freed from the pull of gravity. That when she danced, she transcended all the laws of physics and was one with the music. That she was dance itself.

He had slipped the doorman fifty bucks and snuck into the hall on the ballet school campus. Except for the stage it was unlit, and none of the dancers noticed him. He took a seat – they were all empty – as far forward as he dared. It was warm inside the hall, or at least warmer than the frosty November air outside, so he took off his coat and beanie, and ruffled his flattened hair for his trademark dishevelled look. 

Tony couldn’t think about ballet without some kind of ache from deep inside. It dredged up memories he’d much rather ignore and pretend didn’t happen, or at least that happened to someone else – like the years when he was forced into a pink tutu every Saturday morning, or the look on his mother’s face when he told her he didn’t want lessons anymore.

But watching Natasha dance – so deliberate, so natural, so freeing – there was nothing in the way she moved that was mildly similar to the childish dance that Tony once went did with stilted movements. It was a whole other kind of dance, with its own order and beauty, and Tony was captivated. 

Hidden in the shadows, he watched the rehearsal until the director let them take a break for dinner. “Thirty minutes,” Fury barked, more like a military commander than a ballet director. “And not a second longer – that includes you, Barton.” 

In a ruffle of white skirts and leotards, the dancers filed off the stage through the wings. One figure among them stood out – the only one dressed in black. Tony grabbed his backpack and moved closer to the stage, still hiding in a shadowy aisle at the edge of the hall. He caught Clint’s eye. The dancer shot him a wink. Tony held his breath, terrified that Natasha or one of the other ballerinas would see that surreptitious wink and turn around and see him. 

Clint caught Natasha’s arm and pulled her aside so the others filed past them backstage. He was careful to direct her so that her back was to Tony. As the rest of the dancers left the stage, Tony moved into the light, taking care to stay out of Natasha's line of sight.

“No grand gesture from your boy?” Clint was saying. “Unacceptable. I can kick his ass, you know." 

“He wanted to take me out to dinner,” Natasha replied, “But I told him I’d be in rehearsals all evening till God knows when.” 

“Don’t you wish you could see him tonight?" 

With reluctant shyness, Natasha admitted, “I wouldn’t say no to that.” 

Tony leaned his arms at the top of the stage. “Wish granted." 

He took pleasure in Natasha's yelp of surprise when she spun around. 

“What’re you doing here?!” 

“A little bird told me it’s your birthday,” he said. “Get it? Bird? Cause _Swan Lake_?” 

Natasha whirled around. “You were in on it!” she accused Clint, giving him a fake glare that she was too delighted to hold convincingly. 

“Hey, your boyfriend asked me to be his wingman, who’m I to say no?” He spread his hands innocently. 

“Get it? Wingman?” Tony sniggered. 

Natasha rolled her eyes as she turned back to face him. “Dork." 

“ _Your_ dork.”

“Come up here and let me kiss you properly.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Tony didn’t need to be told twice. He jogged up the stairs at the side of the stage. 

“You two are nauseating,” Clint said, backing up towards the wings. “Have fun, ya crazy kids." 

“Thanks, man,” Tony called. 

“No problem.” Clint returned. “You owe me one, Stark.” He called before he went backstage to join the rest of the dancers. 

As soon as Clint left, Natasha ran to Tony and threw her arms around him. He hugged her back and gave kissed her soundly.

“What are you doing here?” she asked again. 

“Well, it’s your birthday, and since Fury won’t let you have the day off –“ 

“It’s opening night tomorrow!” 

“– I decided to take the celebration to you,” Tony finished. He set the backpack down and knelt next to it, gesturing for Natasha to sit. She did, sinking onto the floorboards of the stage gracefully. She untied her pointe shoes, peeled them off, and flexed her feet, letting her poor joints and muscles relax. Tony took out a picnic blanket from the backpack and spread it out on the stage floor. On it he set two wrapped sandwiches, a box of grapes and two bananas, a box of homemade brownies, and a bottle of baby champagne and two plastic wine glasses. 

Natasha couldn’t speak, a million feelings clamouring in her chest and stomach and seemingly closing off her vocal cords. If Tony had looked up from unpacking their picnic, he would have seen the shadow of those unspoken feelings in her eyes. 

Tony filled the glasses and handed one to Natasha. They clinked their glasses together. The sound echoed around the empty hall. 

“Happy birthday, my dear.” Tony’s voice was warm. 

“Thank you.” Natasha could barely whisper the words for smiling and the emotions that bubbled up in her chest like the bubbles in the champagne. 

They drank, the baby champagne sweet on their tongues. “I promise we’ll have cake and actual champagne another day when you’re not about to start a show. Maybe after closing night, if you want? I wanted to get real champagne tonight cause you _have_ to have bubbly on your birthday – I don't make the rules –” Tony said as he refilled the glasses, “but it’d be _bad_ if you were tipsy for the rest of rehearsal and also I’d probably get banned from school grounds so no more – “ He looked up and his eyes widened in alarm at the sight of the tears welling up in Natasha’s eyes. “What’s wrong?" 

Natasha didn’t answer, biting her cheek to will the tears to stop. 

“Do you not like it?” Tony's voice rose with a hint of panic. 

In reply Natasha kissed him firmly. As their mouths touched a couple of tears squeezed out of her closed eyes. “No, I love it,” she mumbled. “This is perfect." 

Tony wiped away the stray teardrops with his thumbs, cupping her face in his hands. “Then why’re you crying, baby?” 

“No I’m not,” Natasha mumbled, using Tony’s palm to wipe off the last of her tears. She smiled, meeting Tony’s worried eyes, her expression open but her tone measured. “Thank you.” 

Tony’s heart unclenched. “Anything for you, darling,” he said warmly. “Now let’s eat – you heard the director, you only had thirty minutes and we wasted like ten of them making out and crying.” 

“I didn’t cry,” Natasha insisted. 

“Sure you didn't,” Tony teased. “Now eat up – or you’ll pass out in rehearsal later.” 

Natasha didn’t need further encouragement to unwrap one of the sandwiches, which was so full that salmon was spilling out of its edges.

“Wait!” Tony stopped her again and she looked at him in confusion. “Here.” He pulled off his hoodie and passed it to her. “So you don’t get it on your leotard.” 

Natasha’s chest filled with warmth at how thoughtful her boyfriend was. She pulled on the hoodie – it was his favourite and hers as well, so she always stole it from him and he always stole it back – and zipped it up over her ballet leotard. Tony rarely went anywhere without a hoodie or baggy sweater, being conscious of his chest, even though he wore a binder most days. Which was a shame because Natasha knew how much he liked his collection of nerdy t-shirts with their science jokes.

“Easy there, black swan, you know bread is bad for ducks,” Tony teased as Natasha devoured her sandwich. She punched his arm with her free hand. “Ow!” He laughed, rubbing where her fist landed. “I’m right! Trust in the wisdom of your elders!” 

“You’re only a year older than me!” Natasha pointed out. 

“I’m older and therefore wiser,” Tony retorted. 

“I’m not sure that’s how it works.” 

“It sure is. You know how I know?” Tony raised an eyebrow, brown eyes sparkling with barely-contained mischief. He paused for a beat for effect. "Because I’m older and wiser." 

“Okay, whatever, old man.” Natasha rolled her eyes though a fond smirk was on her lips. 

“Oh yeah – welcome to your twenties!” Tony exclaimed. “You’re no longer a teen! How’s that feel so far?”

“Not so different from being nineteen, actually.” Natasha shrugged. “It _is_ nice that I’m not a teen, I feel slightly more of an adult, I guess.”

“Ha, enjoy that while it lasts,” Tony muttered under his breath. Out loud he asked, “How have you been spending your new-found sense of adulthood?”

“I spent most of it in rehearsals and prepping for the show this weekend.” 

“Cool! I got Rhodey to come with me to opening night tomorrow and I’ll be at closing night, too.” 

“Thank you for coming,” Natasha said with a heartfelt smile. She knew that ballet could be difficult for Tony to watch. “You sure you want to be there two nights out of three?” 

“Yeah, of course.” He gave her a big smile, hiding the conflicting feelings beneath it. “My girl is gonna be absolutely goddamn amazing as the black swan, of course I’ll be there.” 

“Thank you,” Natasha repeated, glowing. She didn’t know what to say except for that, having no words to tell Tony that she understood what that meant to him and how much she appreciated it. So she gave his’s hand a squeeze, and by the squeeze he gave her in return, and the look in his eyes when he met her gaze, she knew that he understood all the sentiments that she didn't know how to put into words.

Their sandwiches finished, they picked at the grapes now. 

“How’re you feeling?” Tony asked. “Ready to be a star?" 

“I’m so nervous,” Natasha admitted. “I feel like the more I practice the more nervous I get and the more I screw up. I’ve never been in a lead role before and – it’s scary.” Vulnerability flashed across her face at the confession. “I’m the youngest prima ever in this school. What if I fuck up in the performance tomorrow?” 

“You won’t,” Tony promised. “You’ll blow them all away." 

“Thanks.” Natasha gave a wry smile. “You’re not just saying that cause you’re my boyfriend?" 

“Promise that I’m not,” Tony said. He squeezed Natasha’s hand. “You’re gonna be amazing tomorrow." 

“Thanks.” A tiny smile flashed across Natasha’s face. She flopped back so she lay on her back. “I feel like I haven’t left campus in ages. What’s the outside world like?” 

Tony reclined sideways next to her, propping up his head with one hand. “Terrible,” he said dramatically. “Civilization has crumbled and the lone survivors are wandering the barren wasteland that once was Cambridge, Massachusetts. They gather in grocery stores and battle to the death over meagre supplies like cereal and toilet paper." 

Natasha giggled, rolling her eyes. “So what did you do to survive in this post-apocalyptic world?” 

“Well I had class in the morning – I didn’t skip my lecture, are you proud?!” He shot her a cheeky grin. 

“Very." 

“Then I took my T shot,” he continued, rambling down his words in his way that was like a running puppy who hadn’t quite gotten control over his legs. "Doc asked about you, by the way, she was worried cause you weren’t with me but I told her you’re kept under lock and key in a tower by an evil old witch who wants your magic ballet skills.” 

“All true,” Natasha said, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Uh-huh, Fury being the evil old witch of course.” 

Natasha let out a laugh that made her sit up. Which made her look at the clock that hung at the far end of the hall. “Oh crap – you’d better get going before break ends and Fury comes back finds you here.” 

“Oh shit yeah, he’d have my head for distracting his favourite dancer before the big day.” Tony began stuffing everything back into the backpack. “I was gonna leave the brownies here for you guys but I guess ballerinas don’t really eat shit like this before a show?” 

Nat shook her head. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly. 

“Oh well.” Tony shrugged, putting the tupperware into his backpack. “I’ll just make vegan granola cookies or something for you guys on closing night.” He finished packing up the rest of the food and handed Natasha the bananas. “Post-rehearsal snack to keep your energy up,” he explained and kissed Natasha on the cheek. “Do you need a ride home?” 

Natasha shook her head. “I can ride with Sharon back to our dorm.” 

“Okay then.” Tony gave her a final tight hug. “Take care, yeah? Let me know when you get home.” 

“Yeah, of course. You too.” 

“Yup, will do.” Tony backed up towards the stairs, shouldering his backpack. “And if I get murdered on the way home Rhodey will let you know, I guess. Be my grieving widow and everything. Play Black Sabbath at my funeral.” 

“Wait!” Natasha took a few quick steps towards him.

“What, miss me already?” His grin was cocky. “I’m not actually gonna die yet, you know.”

“Your hoodie.” She shrugged off the garment and handed it to him, but he waved it off.

“You keep it. For good luck, or something. For the show.” 

“You sure?” Her eyebrows drew up slightly towards the middle of her forehead. 

“Yeah.” He gave am easy, lopsided smile. "Give it back to me after when we go celebrate after closing night.” 

“Okay.” Natasha hugged the hoodie to her middle, smiling a secret smile to herself. 

Tony hopped off the edge of the stage, landing lightly on his feet. He looked back up at Natasha. “I know it wasn’t much but – was this a satisfactory birthday?” he asked shyly, peering out from under his long lashes. 

Natasha knelt at the edge and leaned forward. “The best, Tony. Thank you." 

Tony’s cheeks turned pink. “Anything for you, darling.” Tony stood on his tip-toes and reached as far up as he could to kiss her smiling lips. She bent down as far as she could without tumbling over and met his lips with hers. They kissed, lingering, once, twice, three times – happy birthday and goodbye and see you soon. 

Tony dropped back down onto his heels. “Ugh, if I had enough boy genes I’d be tall enough to kiss you properly.” 

“Ha.” Natasha smirked. “We both know that’s not true.” 

“Is too,” Tony insisted, his nose scrunching up. 

“Whatever you say.” 

He returned her smile and let go of her hand after a final squeeze. “See you tomorrow night?” he said. “I’ll be” – he pointed up at the balcony – “up there, near the front.” 

“Cool, I’ll see you.” Natasha gave a little wave.

“And don’t worry – you’ll be amazing.” With that as his goodbye, Tony turned and jogged up the aisle, just as the rest of the dancers and Director Fury came back out onto the stage. 

None of them noticed the figure who paused at the back of the hall, his hand on the door. Looking back at the stage, his eyes sought her out immediately – even if it weren’t for her black leotard, she stood out with her bright red hair, a single flash of colour among the throng of white outfits. The taste of baby champagne and her mouth still on his lips, he smiled to himself, fixed the beanie on his head, and went out into the night. 

**Author's Note:**

> Been sitting on this fic for a while and decided to publish it. I head canoned Tony as trans or gender fluid, especially in college AUs where he's younger and still coming to terms with his identity. As I said in my disclaimer at the beginning, I'm cisgender so if the way I write trans Tony is harmful or hurtful or BAD in any way, please let me know, and I'll work on it.
> 
> I take requests and prompts at my tumblr @katebishopofearth.
> 
> As always, comment and let me know how you found this fic :)


End file.
